Trick or Treat
by terrified
Summary: A one-shot. Sherlock is a little upset at the outcome of certain events and reaches out to Molly for a little consolation and perhaps, a little treat. [Rated T for suggestive themes.]


_**A/N: **__A completely random idea that went from funny, to fluffy, to just downright flirty. I enjoyed the progression, and I hope you do too. Heh. :) x_

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**Trick or Treat**

Molly was startled when she heard a series of rapid but restrained knocks on her door. It was almost as though the person at her door did not want to be noticed. Nevertheless, she had, and so made her way to her door and opened it carefully, peering out from the gap.

"Oh, it's you." she said, surprised to see Sherlock.

"Yes. It's me." he answered. He remembered his manners and gave a cursory smile, also remembering not to barge into a flat that was not his.

"May I—"  
"I'm surprised you haven't marched in…" Molly interrupted in amusement.  
"Well, the last time I received quite the shelling," he answered wryly, "I should not like to receive it again."  
"I'm glad it worked then." she smirked, shutting the door behind them.

Sherlock peeled his coat off himself and flung it on an armchair in Molly's sitting room. He sat down in silence, slowly removing the thick scarf from his neck. Molly had gone to the kitchen to put the kettle on. When she was ready, she emerged with two mugs of hot tea and set one down for her guest. She settled comfortably into the sofa opposite him and observed how positively troubled the detective appeared.

"So, what brings you here?" she asked, fiddling with the paper label of the tea bag.  
"Well…" he said, followed by a long exhale, "Where do I begin?"  
"Must you be so dramatic?" she asked, her eyes giving away the chuckle she suppressed.

There was a small smile that appeared on his face, especially when he read the humour in her eyes. She was so delightfully tolerant of his antics, finding humour where most people found irritation.

"You know what tonight is, don't you?" he asked her, finally reaching forward for his tea.  
"Y-es. It's the commercially-fuelled time of year where children are wrapped in tin foil and crepe paper to go beg for lollies," Molly answered, "All in the name of the dead. As if they really knew the dead…"  
"My point exactly," he said, his heart slightly ballooning from pride that she should share the sentiment.  
"And?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"Well, I owed the Watsons a favour, and promised to help out with…the_festivities_."  
"Ah…"  
"I mean, all this talk of monsters and ghouls and horror…and yet! Yet, when I propose some historically, and anatomically correct, constructions of_real_…_proper_ designs…I am spurned to the sidewalk like something the cat left behind."  
"Oh, Sherlock—" Molly exclaimed, unable to stop a chuckle from escaping.  
"Sophie wanted to be a zombie, but when I brought the skin samples over, my precious burn victim ones, and some _actual _blood…"  
"Sherlock Holmes, you did not!" Molly said, bursting into a peal of laughter.  
"Well, I wanted it to be authentic!" cried the detective, throwing his arms up in the air, "What's more there was some…neighbourhood 'Best Costume Competition' or something. We would have won."

Molly quickly set her mug of tea down for fear of spilling it from laughter. Trust Sherlock to have been duped into Halloween festivities, only to end up being the sole participant who really took it seriously. It was no wonder she loved the man.

"Come here," she said gently, patting the sofa beside her.

The detective looked up and smiled, getting up from his seat to move to where she was. Automatically, he lay his head on her lap as she looked down fondly at him. He looked up at her face and continued to smile, enjoying her gaze that floated above his. Gently, Molly touched the top of his forehead with her index finger. Then, she lightly traced a line down, following his nose bridge to the tip of his nose, before her finger grazed the top of his lips. He caught her hand suddenly, and pressed it against his mouth to kiss it. With a grateful sigh, he released her hand and shut his eyes, enjoying the sensation of being so close to her.

"You would have won, for sure," she said, her fingers moving to weave tenderly between the dark curls that rested in her lap.  
"Without a doubt." he murmured, "I still can't believe I was going to give them the burn victim specimens. I was saving that, you know?"  
"Yes, I know." she said with a laugh, "I was going to come help with that, remember?"  
"Yes, you were," he said, smiling with his eyes still closed.  
"So what have you done with them?"  
"I popped them back at Baker Street when they kicked me out…"  
"Did they _really_ kick you out? Was there no comprom—"  
"Molly Hooper," he said, sitting up suddenly, "Do you think _I_ would compromise the construction of a living corpse?"

She stared in response at his little outburst, a rather sulky outburst, to say the least. Biting her lip, she could only stare at him, for fear of laughing in his face. Sherlock could see the stifling of giggles in those wide, beautiful eyes of hers and tried to contain his own.

"No, no, you wouldn't, of course you wouldn't…" Molly said, nodding indulgently at him.  
"Besides, she _is _my goddaughter. My goddaughter is not to lose in any competition. At least not when I'm involved." he said in what could only be described as Holmesian haughtiness. Molly noticed it in both brothers, especially when they discussed family and loved ones.

"So..are we feeling better now, this All Hallow's Eve?" Molly asked, turning to give him a peck on the check.  
"Slightly." he answered, glancing sideways at her.  
"Only slightly?" she asked, amused, before planting another kiss on his cheek.  
"Hmm. Well." he said, sneaking another quick look sideways.  
"Well, what?" Molly asked.  
"It…could be better." he said, turning to face her.  
"Really? Have you any ideas how?" she asked, her eyes wide in feigned ignorance.  
"No, I haven't. Have you?" he asked in return, his eyes falsely innocent.

With a bell-like chuckle, Molly got up from the sofa and proceeded to return to her bedroom. She could feel the detective's eyes following her and was sure of the smirk that had emerged on his lips. When she reached the doorway to her bedroom, she stopped, and turned to look at him. True enough, he sat there patiently, almost angelically, but with a rather un-angelic smirk on his face.

"We could go look at some bodies…" she remarked suddenly, "You know, to cheer you up."  
"Oh?" he remarked, getting up from his seat.  
"I have all the access cards…" she said with a shrug, "It shouldn't be difficult."  
"Or?" he asked, walking slowly towards her.  
"Or you could just…look at _one_ body, you know…" she continued, shrugging nonchalantly.  
"Interesting." he said, stopping right in front of her, "Tell me more."  
"You'll have to follow me to find out." she whispered, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him slowly on the lips.

He shut his eyes and savoured her proximity and the electricity it sent through his veins. This was a much better way of spending the evening. Molly broke the kiss and gave him that tantalising smile of hers that broke all of his restraint.

"It might take you all night…" she remarked with a sly smirk on her face.  
"It could go on till morning, I wouldn't care," he replied, whispering in her ear.  
"But you know, if you do prefer going to the morgue—"  
"Shut up, Molly Hooper," he hissed before plunging a kiss into her neck.

With a sly chuckle, she grabbed him by his shirt collar, pulling him into her bedroom. When the door was shut, Molly made sure Sherlock forgot his rather unpleasant Halloween evening, and got all the treats he deserved.

**END**


End file.
